The Harvest (12 page)

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Authors: N.W. Harris

Tags: #scifi, #action adventure, #end of the world, #teen science fiction, #survival stories, #young adult dystopian, #young adult post apocalyptic

BOOK: The Harvest
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Exhaustion made every part of Shane feel like
he’d doubled in weight, though his mind refused to let go of
consciousness. His eyes finally grew heavy, and soft emptiness
crept through him.

“Wake up! On your feet!”

Startled, Shane tried to open his eyes, the
lights blinding him. He squinted and rolled to his side, realizing
he must have drifted off. Was it an hour ago? It felt like five
minutes.

“Get out of your racks and put on the clothes
and shoes provided in your locker. If you haven’t already, insert
the translator bud into your ear. Do it, and do it now!” the gruff
male voice coming from the front of the barracks yelled.

It was Jones, and he sounded like someone had
pissed in his cereal.

“What the hell?” Steve grumbled, sliding out
of the rack and hitting the floor with a heavy thud. “Did I fall
asleep and wake up in the Army?”

Maurice laughed groggily.

Shane was jealous that the big guy had gotten
sleep. Already wearing the black T-shirt and boxer briefs, he
rolled out and put on his running shorts. He opened the small,
plastic case holding the earbud. The inside of the lid contained a
picture with instructions on holding and inserting it. It wasn’t
much bigger than a broken-off pencil lead, and a wire was attached
to the thicker end for a handle.

He ran his free hand down his face, tugging
his eyelids further open to wake up. There was an allure to the
tiny thing in a secret agent sort of way. He carefully pinched the
wire, lifted the earbud, and stuck it in his ear. It slipped deep
into his ear canal, poking his eardrum. Shane winced, jerking it
out. Holding his other hand over the insulted ear, he studied the
wire handle held between his fingertips. It had come loose, leaving
the device well out of reach inside his ear.

“Your bud will translate so you can
communicate with each other, and it’ll prevent the enemy from
messing with your brain. Do not lose your earbud!”

How could he? He wondered if he’d ever be
able to get it out again. From across the aisle, Shane’s and
Tracy’s eyes connected. She held just the wire in her fingers too.
Her expression was all seriousness, but he detected a little gleam
in her eye, the same one that was there when she found the Stryker
and rode in the Black Hawk.

“There is a line on either side of the
barracks in front of your bunks. When you are dressed, stand on it.
The last team on the line loses two points.”

“Get up, Laura!” Tracy snapped.

Her aggression was unnecessary, but they
couldn’t afford to lose any points, of that he was certain. Shane
slipped into the running shoes and stepped to the line at the same
time as Maurice and Steve. Across the way, Kelly, Tracy, and Jules
were already on their line, but Laura was still tying her
shoes.

To the left, Shane saw the other six teams
spilling out. The Koreans, Russians, and who he guessed were the
Chinese, all stood at a position of attention, like they’d been
doing this for years. Between them, a group of kids with a mix of
ethnicities stood looking up and down the barracks, their eyes half
open and disgruntled expressions on their tired faces. They blocked
his view of the last two squads, those closest to the bathroom.

To his right, Jones strode into the aisle,
unmistakable from his cloned counterparts because of his broad
shoulders and the scar on his face.

“Stand tall and stiff, eyes straight forward,
hands at your sides,” he bellowed, and Shane thought he heard the
high windows rattle. “From now until you save this planet, you are
all soldiers destined to die.”

Shane kept his eyes forward, but he could
feel Jones glaring at them.

“We have chosen some of you because you are
the best of the surviving humans on this planet. The rest were
chosen because of your association with these few. We will train
you and make you all the best of the best. We will teach you how to
stop the enemy, and we will teach you how to stay alive. Do I make
myself clear? Say, sir, yes sir!”

A chorus of scrambled responses came from up
and down the aisles.

“Now louder and all together!” came the
order.


Sir, yes sir
!”

“On your faces. Push-up position.”

Shane and Steve dropped, Maurice
following.

“So much for getting up and exercising on our
own,” Steve whispered.

“This works too,” Shane replied,
grinning.

“No talking,” Jones yelled.

Shane realized the rude way the alien spoke
to them yesterday was the nicest he’d probably be for their entire
training.

“Most of you know by now—my name is Captain
Jones,” the man continued. “I earned the title by working with the
U.S. Navy Seals. I’ll be in charge of your training while you are
here. Straighten your backs and stay off your knees!”

Shane glanced across the aisle and down the
barracks. Laura and several others struggled to keep good push-up
form.

“I am your drill sergeant, your asshole
father, and that coach who kicked your butt every day after school.
I’m here to break you down and rebuild you into a stronger person
than you ever imagined you could become. I am not here to listen to
your problems. I am not your shoulder to cry on. If you don’t want
to be here, you can be replaced at any time. The survival of your
species depends upon you, and there is no room for weakness, no
time for sniveling or complaining. Do I make myself clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!” everyone shouted.

“Now, push-ups. One, two, three, four, keep
your bellies off the floor,” the alien drill sergeant sang. “Five,
six, seven, eight, keep your backs and legs straight.”

It felt good to do the push-ups, and Jones’
military-cadence style of counting forced a smile onto Shane’s
face. Getting his blood pumping took the edge off the exhaustion.
He never minded a good workout, but he could see Laura and Maurice
weren’t as enthusiastic. After ten push-ups, Laura dropped to her
chest and laid there, her arms trembling with a futile effort to
lift her body once more. Her surrender contagious, Maurice
collapsed next.

“What is your problem?” Jones stepped between
them, rage in his voice. He squatted down, glaring at them. “You
give up like that on the mission, and we are all goners. Push-up or
get out!” He pointed toward the door.

Shane feared he was about to lose two
teammates, and the first day had barely started. To his surprise,
Laura growled angrily and, under the gun of scrutiny, they both
shakily lifted themselves off the floor. Jones moved down the line,
yelling the entire way.

“You all have strengths that set you apart
from the rest of the kids we could have chosen, but you also each
have weaknesses.” Spittle flew from Jones’ mouth. He shouted in
such a guttural way, Shane thought for sure Jones’ voice would give
out. “I intend to flush out those weaknesses, and together, we will
crush them. Do I make myself clear?”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Laura dropped every few minutes, seeming
done. Then, after a quick rest, she’d press on. Probably not
wanting to be beaten by the girl, Maurice kept pace with her. Shane
guessed there was more to Laura than he or anyone else realized,
and now she’d have a chance to show it. Underneath her ghostly pale
skin and jet-black hair, the same determined spirit everyone else
on his team had simmered.

“On your backs! Crunches—begin!”

Jones had them do crunches and flutter kicks
until Shane’s tailbone was bruised. Then he made them plank until
his stomach and arms were on fire, a puddle of sweat forming on the
floor under him.

“Time to freshen up your pretty little faces,
and then get out on the tarmac. If anyone is left in this building
after exactly fifteen minutes, you will all have hell to pay.
Go!”

The barracks erupted into chaos as everyone
dove for their toothbrushes and charged to the end of the room.
Shane expected an all-out brawl, making it to the bathroom with the
surge of kids. To his surprise, people seemed respectful of each
other. Guys and girls—people from different nations from around the
world—lined up behind toilet doors and crowded around sinks. Jones’
threat temporarily unified them, or they were just too tired for
conflict. Shane finished and rushed out of the bathroom, making
room for the others.

Shouting and clapping his hands the entire
time, Jones encouraged them to exit the building. It was still dark
out, no sign of dawn anywhere in the starry sky. The air was warm
and humid, and the night critters were singing at full volume.
Shane found Steve sitting on the bench to the right of the
door.

“Did you even pee?” Shane asked, shocked that
Steve had beaten him.

“The bushes.” Steve pointed his thumb to the
egress between the buildings.

Shane shook his head and plopped down next to
his friend. Soon, the rest of the kids spilled out and coalesced
into their squads.

“On your feet! Run!” Jones ordered as he
burst out behind the last kid.

Shane took off with the rest of his squad on
his heels. He reckoned the tarmac was about the size of four
football fields, almost a mile around the perimeter. He glanced
over his shoulder and tried to set a pace that everyone could
handle. But Maurice was already huffing.

“Come on, hang with me,” he said. “We have to
stay together.”

The Koreans passed them within the first
minute of the run, and then the Chinese. It drove Shane crazy to
see them blow by. He’d been running all summer to train for
football, and he was sure he could keep up with them, if not stay
ahead, but he wouldn’t leave his team.

Laura let out a pained gasp, slowing to a
jog.

“Keep going!” Shane ordered. “Whatever you
do, don’t stop.”

She nodded, her face contorted like she might
throw up.

The Russians flew by next.

“Damn it,” Jules growled. Taking off after
them, she pumped her arms and legs like an experienced sprinter. He
suspected she was on the track team at her school.

“Stay with us,” Shane shouted.

She waved her hand in the air dismissively,
vanishing in the darkness ahead.

“Did you see the tattoo on that Russian’s
arm?” Tracy asked, running on Shane’s right side. Like Shane, she
didn’t seem winded, Laura and Maurice’s pace too slow to wear her
out.

“No, why?”

“It was the symbol for the Spetsnaz—Russian
special forces,” she replied.

Shane had seen a TV show about the Spetsnaz.
Their training was brutal—some even died during it. He never
imagined they were recruiting teenagers as well, unless these kids
were some kind of Spetsnaz wannabes or groupies.

“They might not take lightly to Jules running
past them alone,” Tracy said with a worried tone.

With what they did to Steve last night, Shane
feared they’d hurt Jules.

“Damn it,” he grumbled. “Go after her, and
tell her to hang back with us.”

She nodded and sped off into the
darkness.

 

 

“I can’t make it
any further,” Laura whimpered, pressing her fists into her sides.
Her long, coal-black hair was soaked with sweat, sticking to her
forehead and neck. In the dim light, Shane could see her usually
pale face was flushed, eyes bulging as she gasped for air. “I’m
cramping up.”

“You can’t stop,” Shane said. Frustrated as
all get out that his team was the weakest and, on top of that, they
didn’t have the discipline to stay together, Shane tried to sound
enthusiastic to motivate Laura and Maurice. He grabbed her arm and
helped her along. “You have to be strong.”

Moving just faster than a speed walker, they
made it three quarters of the way around the tarmac. Shane saw
Tracy up ahead, on the edge of a security lamp’s soft circle of
yellow light. Jules lay in front of her, holding her knee pulled to
her chest.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, releasing
Laura and letting her stand huffing behind him.

“It was the Russians,” Jules replied, her
voice strained and her expression contorted in agony.

Anger boiling in him, Shane got a look at her
knee. All the flesh was gone from it, and ribbons of blood hung
down her shin. Her hands and elbows were bloody too.

“They tripped you?”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t an accident,” Tracy
replied for her. “That’s for damn sure.”

“We oughta kick their heads in,” Steve
growled, searching the darkness with renewed fury in his eyes.

“But we shouldn’t stoop to their level,”
Kelly warned.

“Stoop?” Tracy asked incredulously. “I
wouldn’t call it stooping. I hate them, but right now, they’re
acting like the top of the food chain. If we’re going to get to
their level, we’ll have to rise, not stoop.”

Shane was with Tracy and Steve—he wanted to
kick some Russian butt. He was just starting to wrap his head
around the idea that these aliens sought to turn a bunch of high
school kids into elite soldiers. The people they’d brought to this
base to train were supposed to be the best, and these jerks were
trying to bully their way to the top? He wasn’t having it, but he
didn’t want to object to Kelly, so he kept his mouth shut.

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